


Descend the Heavens

by orphan_account



Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: Adventure, Horror, M/M, Psychological, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-24
Updated: 2014-04-24
Packaged: 2018-01-20 14:42:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1514213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I could hear a faint and muffled beeping sound, almost as if there was some sort of machine by my ear. But when I opened up my eyes, all I saw was red. Red on the chairs, red on the stairs, red everywhere. And then there was that baseball idiot, that seemingly happy-go-lucky idiot that would always smile at me, holding some sort of red blob in his hand. And then I realized.</p><p>"Gokudera, this is for you."</p><p>Right after Tsuna and his friends defeated Byakuran and they were able to get back to their time safely, all is well and peace is back with them. Well, all except Gokudera. The boy's past was strangely haunting him at night, and it didn't make it better that Yamamoto, who picked up on it, was starting to act weird. Not weird as in his usual self, but weird as in...creepy. And that creepiness was not only starting to affect Gokudera, but with innocent people such as the ones he loved. A/U.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Descend the Heavens

**Author's Note:**

> I was struck by the light, and BAM! I...made this) dark and horrid two-shot. Yes, it is a two-shot. In the beginning, I wrote this out of anger. But as I got farther in the story, my inspiration started to leave me, and I was left in the cold. Problem is, I was 4,000 words plus in my story. I didn't want to delete twelve pages of words just like that. So I went through with it. Wah.

Red dominates everything. It is just like darkness. It tries to grab everything with its grubby little fingers and devours it. It rips it to shreds, leaving nothing in return. Red is a damn monster, and if you disagree with me with your statements of how red is so pure and pretty, I really don't give a flying fuck. I hate red. Red is a monster. And that's final.

So when I dreamt of nothing but the sea of crimson before my eyes, I knew that this must have been some sort of bad luck on my part. I hadn't dreamt of that sea since I was twelve. It was a while ago, and surely it was before the Tenth came. Hah. To think that the Tenth would sweep away all the bad memories I held deep inside the crevices of my heart. He truly is amazing.

But I digress. I dreamt of the sea of crimson, where floating heads and crumpled arms were just as normal as fish that swam in the water. No one questioned the reason for a fish swimming in its community. No one questioned when or why a fish ate food, or when it died. And no one questioned when the fish's corpse would float upon the water, it's insides eaten all out. The sea that was the color of ruby wine was just like that; no one questioned what lied in it, and why it happened.

But I, being only five years old, questioned the unspeakable things of the Red Sea. I could remember when the men of my father's troupe shushed me, and when my father beckoned me to him only to beat me silly and drag me to the floor for questioning his motives. But I remember clearly. I never did such a thing. I only wanted to know why someone stared at me lifelessly as their decapitated head became crushed from so many men stepping on it.

It was those moments where I feared life the most. It was those moments where I hated red the most.

As I closed my eyes to fall asleep again, I saw that sea of maroon flash before my eyes. And with a fit of unexplained anger, I waved it off as I turned to the side of my bed, gripping the sheets with all of my might. I hope that gripping these white and grey sheets could erase the pain of the sea-the pain of everything that haunted me.

* * *

_"Young master?"_

_I opened my eyelids carefully, feeling the heaviness of fatigue weigh down on my eyes like a bag of flour. It was uncomfortable, yes, but with some time I could open my eyes. It was a relatively bright day; the sun opened her arms to the world, casting away all the dreadful clouds, and a beautiful burgundy-yellow infiltrated the sky by the means of the night haze. It was afar off in the horizon because of that, but I could see it clearly. Beautiful things like that I would never miss._

_I sat up out of my bed, feeling the smooth sheets that my father once provided me with pool around my legs. I was tired, yes, but it was nothing I couldn't get rid of with a little water and some morning breeze. And that was exactly what I was going to do. I pushed the soft and somewhat comforting sheets off of my legs, and I started towards the bathroom._

_"Relena?" The head maid, Relena, was a beautiful woman who captivated my father at first sight. She was dark-skinned, and her body was flawless in every way. There wasn't a blemish on her face, and her dark hair ran down her back like a cape. She did have a scar on her cheek, but it did nothing to extinguish her beauty. If anything, it accentuated it. My father allowed her, because of her beauty and dedication, to do as she pleased in the house, which often earned some scorn among the maids. But she, the humble one, always treated them as coworkers, not as servants like she could have. And I liked her for that. A lot._

_"Yes, young master?"_

_I coughed a little, feeling my throat irritate me a bit. "Could you set the bathtub for me? I want to take a bath as soon as I can. Father wants me as well, right?"_

_She nodded, her onyx tinted hair pushing itself from her shoulder into thin air. "Your father has a busy schedule for you, young master. Would you like me to report to you before or after your bath?"_

_I felt my body heat up as her sharp apricot eyes raised up to mine, as she was still bowing lowly. I didn't like making choices. My father always told me that as I was five, I had to make choices on my own, especially as I will inherit his name one day. But...doing so still discomforted me. I wanted the adults to make the choices, not me. But if I told her that, she would simply parrot back to me what my father says. I know she is doing it out of goodwill and kindness for my being, but I didn't want that. I didn't want that at all. I wanted to be...I don't know. Babied._

_"C-can you tell me now?" I actually wanted to tell her while I was in the bathroom. Maybe we could take a bath together like we used to. After all, I have never seen my mother, and she was the closest thing to it. The other maids either hated me or feared me. Why they feared me, though, I didn't know._

_"As you wish. Your father wishes that you report to the living room upon freshening yourself. He has some important matters to discuss with you. I will prepare your bath right away, so please begin to undress yourself and leave your clothes in the basket." With an air of...something I could not explain, royalty maybe(?). she headed off to her duties, and I was left by myself in this over sized, bland and pale room. By myself. All alone._

_Biting back a shiver of fear, I started to take off my clothing carefully, minding the bruises and scratches from last night that my father's friend inflicted on my body. My father was drunk, and his friend came over as usual. And as usual, he came to my room, looking to have a good time. At first, I didn't understand it, and I told Relena. She, in turn, told my father. But he didn't believe her, and things calmed down after a while. But Relena's attitude towards me changed. She didn't treat me as coldly. She always stayed with me when that man came, and even when he didn't come, she stayed by my side, always looking for a way to help me. And I began to like her for that. And she, from the way she treated me, started to like me as well._

_But there were times that Relena couldn't be around, times that-she had to attend to other things. Last night was definitely one of those times. And from what it seemed, Relena had the same problems I did. My father was touching her in nasty places that Relena would scold me for saying aloud, and there was nothing she could do about it. It wasn't like she could go to one of the maids, and if she quit this job, well, she would be homeless until she found herself another job._

_I unclothed myself, leaving myself in a bare state. The robe that Relena neatly folded on the table next to my bedside is what I ended up unfolding and sliding on my body._

_I was about to head out the door when-_

Bam!

_I heard a strange yet loud sound that sounded like the metal food carriers Relena sometimes uses to carry my lunches when we go on our occasional picnics being slammed into the living room wall. And if I wasn't sure if I mistook that sound or not, it repeated itself, like a mantra of sorts._

_I rushed out of my room and ran downstairs, tripping over my own feet as I started to lunge forward. But as soon as I fell is as soon as I got back up. Something was wrong. Relena wasn't in the bathroom. The maids weren't gossiping in the kitchen, and the boom sound from before repeated itself in a rapid fashion. Instead of laughing, I heard wails and screams in the living room. There was a strange smell that accompanied the sound; it was a strange, repugnant scent of iron and soil. It was odoriferous; it dominated every other smell in the house, even that of the sweet fragrance of the jasmine flowers that one of the old maids picked up for me the other day._

_When I opened up the living room door, the first thing I noticed was the sound of a puddle of liquid. When I looked down, a rosy red met my eyes, and all the maids were on the floor, lifeless. My father was nowhere to be seen, and there were strange men in the house. Strange men who wore strange clothing who had a strange accent. Who were they?_

_But then, my father appeared from the far corner with a bunch of men who I recognized. They were his coworkers, if I remember correctly. The first time I saw death flash before my eyes was the first time I saw them. To me, they were death incarnated. They were evil._

_Desperately, I searched for Relena. A bunch of maids, all of whom were crushed into the ground, had their clothes stripped, and looked just like how I did last night when I took a good look at myself in the mirror. And I prayed to God that Relena didn't look the same._

* * *

I feel my eyes shoot open as I began to lunge forward. I put a trembling hand to my heart, feeling it beat rapidly under my touch. And then, almost like sanity came to me and comforted me, I calmed down.

This is why I fucking hate red. Every once in a while, I get a nightmare-no, a memory about my past. Though, one could plausibly argue that they are the same. I would see tens to hundreds to thousands of dead bodies of men, women and children...that was a nightmare. And the horrible thing about it is that I could never shake it off. The feeling after everything was over, after I had seen my own memories flash before my eyes.

I got up shakily; my legs quivered under me slightly. With the little energy I had, I start to move towards the door, feeling the sweat on my palms, and opened the door. And unlike my memories, the smell and sight of blood didn't greet me; the morning sun did instead. It was five-thirty in the morning, for sure. There wasn't a single cloud in the sky, yet it was hazy, almost as if a fog settled in the atmosphere. There was no doubt in my mind that it was before seven. By six, the haze in the sky would have already cleared up. By five, however, the sun wouldn't even show its face.

Because of the fact that Bianchi was still uncomfortable with staying in the same house as I, she stayed in a separate apartment nearby mine if I needed help. Well, it was more of a cause that I still disliked her-albeit for a different reason than before-despite her revelation about my parents. My father only became sour and bitter like a prune after my mother died, which was around the time that the incident happened.

I headed into the bathroom that was to the left of this one, and proceeded to take off my clothing. Slowly, as if the memories of last night haunted me, did I step into the shower. I turned the knob one way, and then another, and immediately a jet of hot fluid splashed me in the face. I could only gasp to get the water out of my nostrils and eyes. It assaulted me as I grabbed blindly for the soap, and pattered against my back as I scrubbed myself. It was refreshing, and honestly, I preferred to stay in the bathroom for as long as I could handle it. But I couldn't. Today was a weekday, and I couldn't have the Tenth worrying about my safety.

I allowed the falling water to wash away the soap that was on my back, and turned the water off to grab my towel that was on the side of me. It didn't take me more than five minutes to get myself ready and head out of the door, and with the extra time, I took a pack of cigarettes that was in my back pocket. I opened it, took one of the white cancer sticks out, and placed it in my mouth. Maybe it was after seeing my father and Shamal do it so many times, but I developed the habit of smoking. I'm sure if the Tenth was here now, he would probably say something. My sister would snatch it out of my mouth, blabbing about how cigarettes aren't good for my heath. Hah. If I cared about that, I wouldn't smoke at all. But then, if I didn't smoke, I would probably develop some other horrible habit, like biting my finger nails like I used to, or scratching the palm of my hands with my nails when I was scared or irritated. Smoking, although not healthy, was the best thing I could do for now.

I lit the small object with a lighter that I always kept with me. Besides dynamite, I happen to love fire. Call me a pyromaniac if you wish, but there is something about the way fire consume everything wildly. When I was younger, I wanted to be free. Just like fire.

The smoke of the cigarette swirled in the sky like a cloud, and idly I lied my head back against the door, thinking about everything and nothing. If heaven was as peaceful as it was now, with only the morning birds as my company, I wouldn't mind dying.

I snorted. There was no way I would make it into heaven. With the amount of people I have killed, I wouldn't be surprised if I had the most punishment in hell. I deserve it, after all.

Quickly, I took the smoking bud out of my mouth and crushed it into my hands. The nicotine that was inside the cigarette came out in my palm, and I felt the pleasurable stinging sensation as I opened it to show the grainy brown substance that was imbedded in the inside of the cigarette. Those few hundred grains weren't burned by the flames. I would have ate it straight, but quite frankly, that's disgusting, and I didn't have time for it anyways, as it was time for me to leave. I wiped the substance on a paper towel that was near me, and I washed my hands. The last thing I needed to do was grab my things and get ready to leave. If I left too late, the Tenth would go on ahead of me.

I quickly grabbed my bag, strapped my dynamite set underneath my clothes, grabbed the Vongola ring and the Box, and headed out the door. It was a few feet out that I met that stupid baseball freak.

Yes, Yamamoto Takeshi, that doofus.

"Hey, Gokudera." From the corner of my eye, I could see his bright smile, his shining eyes as he fully expected me to reciprocate nicely. But he knew me well; when did I ever treat him nicely?

"Hn. What do you want?"

"Oh, nothing. I just wanted to say hi." I could tell he was trying to strike up a conversation with me. But I felt that there was no need to speak with him. The only ones I needed to speak to was Reborn and the Tenth. Reborn-well, he was more of an absolute. After all, the second someone didn't do as he wanted, he either negotiated or threatened. And seeing as I was under him because I was under the Tenth, he would most likely do the latter, not the former. It was sad, but I rather it this way, anyhow.

But to entertain myself a bit, I decided to continue the conversation. I didn't mind silence, really; actually, I loved silence. But after being with the Tenth and the others for so long, I wouldn't mind a bit of noise now and then.

"Since when did I say you could walk with me?"

"You never said I couldn't."

"Hn. Shut it." We were almost at the Tenth's place; there was no need to talk to him anymore. Or argue, as it may sound. But that stupid baseball freak just wanted to make our conversation longer-I guess he thought that I wanted to talk to him. But let me tell you: he is sadly mistaken.

"How did you sleep last night?" At first, I felt my face heat up. Why the hell would he ask such a personal question? That was almost as bad as "Who do you sleep with?" or "How many minutes does it take for you to finish a shower?" I mean, it wasn't as stupid or lame, but it was just as personal to me. And then, the memories of last night immediately came to my eyes, and I cringed, feeling the blood drain from my face.

"It's none of your business," I snapped, feeling my temper get ahead of me. "What I do at night or how I sleep is none of your concern." Desperately, I wanted to get us off this topic, this topic of me. I didn't want to talk about myself to anyone, much less the baseball freak.

So I snidely retorted, "How did _you_ sleep, if you want to talk about that so much?"

"Me?" Like always, he started to laugh. "Well, I slept fine. I don't see why you have to get so defensive about it, though." He shot me a grin, which I snorted at, and then we began to talk about random things like school and extracurricular activities. It was around that time that we met the Tenth, who glanced back at us before shooting the both of us with a bright smile. I always liked when the Tenth smiled. It suited him so well.

"Hi, you guys. How'd you manage to sleep? I slept well like I haven't in ages." We caught up to him, and the Yamamoto started to talk animatedly. It figures the two of them could do that. I simply listened until the Tenth decided to address me. That _is_ what a good right-hand man did, after all.

"I slept good, Tsuna! I hadn't dreamt in a while, too, and when I did dream last night, it was about baseball. I was on first base, waiting to get to second when..."

I began to tune them out, not even listening to what the baseball freak had to say. It didn't look like he was going to stop talking anyways, so it wouldn't hurt to think on my own for a bit.

Though really, there was nothing to think about. It wasn't like I had any hobbies to think about like Yamamoto, and thinking about my family is a waste of time and strength. But at the same time...I wonder how Relena is doing? I never did see her body along with the rest of the maids, and the bodies of the men who were from the opposing mafia family didn't show any signs of meeting her, either. Maybe she got away safely?

I smiled a little bit. That would be nice. Besides Bianchi, my other family member alive would be her. My father...is no more, and as I drilled into my head a million times, the sweet mother that used to play the piano to me died a long time ago. When I came here by myself, I assumed I was alone...but then Bianchi was there. And I began to make more friends anyways, some of them who I think of as family.

I shifted my eyes to the Tenth. _He_ was one of the ones I thought of as family. My eyes then glanced at Yamamoto, who glanced at me occasionally. _He_ was family too, although he was annoying as snot. He never would shut up about a game or something he liked, and he smiled way too much for my liking...but he was there when I needed that is what I liked.

Still, I would never tell this to him. He would get even more clingy, which would become annoying after the first five minutes.

"How'd you sleep, Gokudera-kun?" Shit. I spaced out too much.

I forced myself to sheepishly smile as I directed my look to the Tenth, who stared at me curiously.

"I'm sorry, I didn't hear what you said, Tenth. Please repeat what you said?"

"Oh..." He scratched his head nervously as he repeated his question. I would never understand why he was so nervous. Is it my demeanor? Am I too forceful why the Tenth needs to be nervous around me? What is it?

"I just asked how you slept, is all."

Now, I could feel myself sweating. What was it about sleep? Yes, yesterday was a hectic day. We defeated Byakuran and we got to go home after being transported by the time machine. After that, all was well. Okay. But I don't see how that connects with sleep. Is it that the Tenth and everyone else couldn't sleep well because of said events? I don't get it.

But still, I had to offer a positive response to the Tenth. I couldn't get him worried with my stupid problems of my past. In fact, I actually slept well when we had war. Now that everything has calmed down, my mind has been left to wander and...that never ends out well. I always think about that dreadful sea of blood. I hate blood. Sometimes, I wonder why God even made us with blood if all it was going to do was spill out all over the place.

"I slept harder than a rock, Tenth!" I patted my chest to further prove my point. The Tenth flinched a little, but I guess it was because I was too excited. But I couldn't help it. I had to keep a cheerful and willing personality around him.

"I see. Did you dream anything?" I bit my tongue slightly as to refrain from telling him the truth. _Yes, I dreamed, but it was a fucking nightmare about my past, where the maids of the house were raped and the men on the opposing mafia family were either beaten to death or shot._ Yeah, there was no way I could tell him that.

"Nah, I didn't. But that's fine! Did you dream anything, Tenth?"

"Yeah, I did, in fact. It was really random, though..." I wanted to hear what he had to say, really, but I saw Yamamoto's eyes peer on me. What? It's not like I told him anything. If I told him something, and then I turned around and lied to the Tenth, then I could understand why he would look at me. But I did no such thing, so why was he looking at me like that? He almost looked...disbelieving. Was it my face? Was it my tone? Damn it, I know that my body gestures give away things sometimes, but I am sure that this is not one of those times.

"What are you looking at," I hissed at him. "Turn around and get moving!"

"Why're you lying," he whispered back at me with a serious expression on his face. "If you at least told him it's nothing important, but that you did dream, at least that would make things a bit better."

I gasped lightly, but then I sneered at him. What did he know? Why did he care?

"It's none of your business what I say to anyone," I grunted. "Just mind your own business, baseball idiot, and leave me alone." I was going to speed up to try to catch up with the Tenth before we knew we fell behind-since we walked slower, not him-but that guy muttered something so soft under his breath that had I been farther, I might not have heard it.

"I can't do that." For some reason, the low, dangerous tone his voice took sent shivers up my back. And when I glanced into his eyes to see what he was thinking, I noticed he was looking dead on at me, not even wavering for a second. That Yamamoto scared me at times. That Yamamoto I could never shake off.

Quickly, I ran to the Tenth's side, looking back at Yamamoto to see if he would catch up with the two of us, but he didn't. He just kept on staring at me with those eyes like his life depended on it.

As I forced myself to engage in a full conversation with the somewhat bubbly Tenth who was entering the school grounds, I had lost track of Yamamoto, who was somewhere around. Sadly, because I took up the Tenth's focus, he didn't notice it, either.

It also didn't occur to me at the time how Yamamoto noticed I had dreamed something at all.

* * *

I noticed there was something wrong with Yamamoto-he was off somehow. It wasn't like he had a cold or anything and he had a hoarse voice or a whooping-cough, it was more like there was something _off_ with him. Relena used to tell me that when she had worked as a psyche nurse in the mental ward, there was something always off with the doctors and shrinks. It was like there was a loose screw in their heads or something. Before, when they used to treat their patients to help them, they would cop a feel and see what happens, or they would add a bit more pressure when it came to their medicine, and see the look of pain on their face. It was those nitty-gritty details that drove her to the conclusion that there was something wrong with them.

Yamamoto, although not as severe, was the same way. When he hung out with the Tenth and I, he always, when he thought we were not looking, was serious and quiet. And after that serious look came a rather lecherous and maniacal look on his face. He wasn't as happy-go-lucky as I thought. Maybe something happened to him?

"Yamamoto." I hissed out his name as we were walking back home. The brunette only managed barely to direct his attention span towards me.

"Yeah? What's up, Gokudera?" His eyes were darker than before, and his eyes, although his mouth was smiling, was not. He looked displeased to be there, and all the more I had the sixth sense to know that he was off.

"Did...did anything happen?" He stopped, and for a long while, he simply stared at me. He stared and stared and stared until I became frustrated and yelled out:

"Stop staring at me like that!"

Thank anything above the clouds that the Tenth didn't pay much attention to it, but Yamamoto did and he caught himself. I found myself wondering what was he thinking about me that could have took his attention from us so long...but it was none of my business. I couldn't question him like that, especially because I wouldn't want it for myself, and I would never answer him.

"Sorry." Sheepishly, he looked away, but I could still tell he was looking at me every so often. The intensity of those eyes couldn't be missed even by the most densest of people.

We caught up to Tsuna like this morning, but unlike before, he didn't say anything. Immediately, I felt guilt crawl its little legs into my heart, and running in front of him, I took his hands into my own. I had to make this right before I even dealt with Yamamoto's little change of attitude.

"Tenth! Is there something the matter?" I looked directly into his eyes, and seeing nothing but blankness, I stopped him right then and there.

"What's wrong?" I could not read what he was thinking, and idly I wondered if I did something wrong. But the Tenth waved me off with a small smile and something akin to a shooing hand motion. But it was more like a wave, so I wasn't too offended; but still, I was worried. Keeping my boss was the highest priority of mine-even before my life. I'd gladly give my life for him if it meant keeping him happy.

"It's nothing, Gokudera-kun, it's nothing."

The baseball freak, rightfully so, also walked besides the Tenth to see the problem. His face was still clouded over, but I shot him a quick look that hopefully sent the message that I would badger him about it later. He nodded, maybe in reluctance, but then tended to Tsuna just like I did.

"Tsuna, what's wrong?"

The brunette simply shook his head as he looked up at the sky briefly before turning his gaze back to us. He seemed far off at that moment, and I wished that I could see what was in his mind, see what was in his heart. But I couldn't. I am not that mean, and even if I were...

I am not God.

"I am fine, Gokudera-kun, Yamamoto. It's just...I am happy that everything is okay, that we are all together again." My boss sighed as he gazed up at the clear sky, and I watched the clouds that were reflected from his auburn eyes soar in the baby-blue waters across his face. He looked peaceful at that moment, and really, all I could do was smile. If my boss was happy that the war was over, I am happy as well. My feelings...my true feelings on the matter is insignificant.

"Of course, Tenth! Now that the war is over, we can rest easy. But if you need help or have any trouble, you know you can depend on me and the baseball idiot."

I felt his eyes pierce my face before he glanced at Tsuna and replied. But for some reason, I felt uneasy. Was it because of my dream last night? Was it because he looked like he scowling when he was looking at me? Or was it my conscience pricking at my side?

"Yeah, I would help you no matter what, Tsuna." I was about to grimace at him, that baseball freak of course, but then I saw how his eyes became sharp. It was almost like I was observing the fight between him and Squalo. His eyes were so alert, almost like a young lion before a meal. I thought nothing of it, until I saw an angered look in his eyes. What was with those mood swings? Did something happen after all? We just got back and...now he's like a different person. He was happy one moment, angry he was another.

I felt fear grip my heart when Tsuna stopped, turned around, and said:

"Thanks, you guys. Trust me, I am fine now. I am happier than ever before." As his face lit up brighter than any morning star, I started to see Yamamoto's face darken like the moonless night.

And I, I in the middle, didn't like this situation one bit.

**Author's Note:**

> A/R: I am resurrecting all of my other stories. I would be honored if you reviewed, but if you don't, then just...yeah. I will update Fear this weekend, though.


End file.
